


Notes in a Line

by AughtPunk



Series: Euclidean Geometry [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, I'm sure there's going to be bed sharing, Long, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Multi, Noodle Dragons, Points on a Circle, Promise, Redemption, Sequel, Slow Burn, So many ships, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, This One is More Linear, Useless Lesbians, equally useless gays, they're all useless really, to thine own self be true
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-09-02 12:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16786852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AughtPunk/pseuds/AughtPunk
Summary: D.va's luck ended when an EMP blast took out her MEKA mid-missionSombra's world ended when the Omnic War destroyed all that she knewOverwatch ended in fire and hateTalon will end the same way





	1. Overture - D.va & Sombra

**Author's Note:**

> If you are new to this series, I recommend reading [Points on a Circle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7872577/chapters/17979376) first. You don't have to, but it will make events easier to understand.
> 
> Now, where were we?

The problem with endings, Hana would reflect on later, is that some weren’t as obvious as others.

Her last dinner with her parents as a civilian was a crystal-clear memory of forced smiles and empty words about how proud they were. Her last shoot on set in Hollywood was a blurred mess of laughter and exhaustion thrown into a memory-blender set on high. Her last day in the Korean military was, if you asked her, so perfectly on-brand in every way. Every ending followed by a beginning as natural as the dawn following the night.

But the quiet endings were the tricky ones. She couldn’t remember the last time she sat on her father’s lap as he played video games. The last time her mother brushed her hair was lost as well. The only thing worse than the endings that already passed were the ones yet to pass. Who would be the last person she spoke to? What would be the last video game she would play? Her last meal? Her last words?

“Hey there, Bunnybee, could you help me with this weird phone-thing?”

Hana hoped this would be the last time she would have to help McCree with his phone.

She popped her MEKA’s leg panel back into place, slightly annoyed that her favorite cowboy had interrupted her routine pre-mission check. Well, her second check. She would probably do a third check of her MEKA’s systems before they landed. Fourth if she had the time. Sure, everything looked fine on the first and second check, but better safe than blown up because you forgot to grease a few joints. Hana grabbed onto her MEKA’s arm and hefted herself up to her feet. “Did your phone update?”

“No.”

“Did you delete all of your contacts by mistake?”

“It ain’t that.”

“Please tell me you didn’t text-blast everyone naked pictures of yourself yet again.”

“That only happened once,” Jesse grumbled. “Hanzo made me download this app-thing and I can’t get the damned thing to work. You’re young, maybe you can figure it out?”

Hana crossed over to the other side of the Orca to join Jesse at the table. Everyone else was getting ready for the mission: Fareeha was pouring over the details at the holo-screen, Mei and Roadhog were preparing their weapons, and Zenyatta was meditating. Or taking a nap. Hana couldn’t tell the difference. But unlike the others Jesse had chosen to spend his pre-mission time spread out over as much seating as possible with his feet propped up on the table. In clear defiance of Winston’s no-cowboy-boots-on-tables rule, no less.

“Okay okay, let me check it out.” Hana plucked the phone out of Jesse’s hand and sat down on the table, pushing a half-empty beer bottle out of the way. Luckily she was spared from Jesse’s badly-photoshopped horse-themed phone background as the app in question was already up. A cartoon Pachimari wriggled back and forth on the phone’s screen with the word UNNAMED above its head. Hana looked up from the phone. “Really, Jesse? You can’t figure out Pachicare?”

“Hunbun, I’m not sure what this even does. All I know is it coos at Hanzo three times a day and frankly I’m gettin’ a tad jealous.”

“Wow, Jesse. That’s both really cute and really sad.” Hana poked the cartoon Pachimari, which squeaked in response. “Pachicare is a self-care app, you dork. It reminds you to drink water, to take your medication, to take a moment to relax, that sort of thing. Your crunchy macaron isn’t going to run off with an onion-octopus, I promise.”

Jesse eyed his phone suspiciously. “Well if it’s not a boyfriend stealing app then how come I can’t get the little wiggly bastard to do anything?”

“Because you have to name him first, dummy.” Hana handed the phone back.

“Aww, I was kinda going for a The Pachimari With No Name thing.” Jesse topped off his comment with a finger gun just to drive his brilliance home.

Hana didn’t really bother to hide her laugh. “Sorry cowboy, you gotta name him. But if it makes you feel any better there’s an option to buy clothes for your Pachimari. I know in-game purchases are kind of lame but the money actually gets donated to a good cause and you’ve totally already bought the cowboy outfit, haven’t you?”

“Lil’ Harmonica looks just like his daddy now.” Jesse mimed wiping a tear off his face. “They grow up so fast.”

Hana’s very obvious yet well deserved question about Jesse’s naming abilities was cut off by a chorus of _brrprprprpr_ sounds bouncing across the Orca. Moving as one the rest of the team pulled out their phones to check on their Pachimaris. Her own little Murky was wiggling back and forth in her bunny pajamas with an exclamation point over her head. She tapped the icon and a picture of what must have been Jesse’s Pachimari popped up with dialog:

_Your Pachimari MURKY has made a new friend!_

_HIS name is HARMONICA! HIS Daddy’s name is JESSE and his favorite food is PIE! Wow!_

“Jesse!” Mei cooed at her phone. “Your Pachimari is adorable!”

“I am pleased the shop had an outfit so fitting of your character,” Zenyatta said.

“I’m just shocked you figured out how to use an app,” Fareeha chimed in.

Roadhog gave Jesse a silent thumbs-up.

“Is it going to make that noise every time?” Jesse waved his phone at Hana. “I kind of have a secret-agent-sneaking thing going on if you haven’t noticed.”

“He said while wearing spurs.” Hana leaned over to tap the screen. “It only makes that noise when the the app detects another Pachicare user it hasn’t interacted with before. You can turn the alert off, don’t worry. But look! Your Pachimari’s made friends!”

Jesse let out a whistle. “Well, look at that! Harmonica has met Piglet, Frosty, Yoshi, Gretzky and...Murky?”

“You better not be making fun of my little Murky,” Hana pouted, but that too slipped away to laughter. She couldn’t help herself. Jesse was one of the few people that could always lift her spirits. Well, him and Hanzo. And Genji.  Lúcio. Brigitte. Most of Overwatch once she thought about it. All of Overwatch. Even that sourpuss Jack.

And Haigha, an annoying part of her mind chipped in. Hana opened her messenger app to once again stare at Haigha’s unanswered text. She wondered if she should shoot Haigha a message before they landed. Hey Haigha, sorry I can’t stream tonight, I’m off saving the world while you’re playing video games. If I don’t die I’ll text you when I get back to base, love D.Va. And then Haigha would text her the same thing she always sent before Hana’s missions.

_Al hombre osado la fortuna le da la mano._

Fortune favors the bold. Most people would say good luck. But not Haigha.

“-about her beau I bet.”

Hana snapped back to the present just in time to catch the all-knowing smirk on Jesse’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh.” Jesse’s smirk only got worse. “So you’re just smiling and staring at your phone for no reason, huh? Not because a certain someone’s taken up room in your heart?”

Fareeha cleared her throat loud enough that people on the ground far below might have heard her. “Everyone, I want to go over the mission details one last time before we land in Aurangabad. We have a very short window to operate in with no room for mistakes. And Jesse, you are literally the last person on Earth who gets to make fun of someone for having a crush.”

An assortment of laughter echoed throughout the Orca and thankfully took the spotlight off Hana for once. She did tuck her phone safely away in her toolbox before joining the others at the holo-projector. Hana may have been too professional to text during the meeting, but it didn’t stop her heart from fluttering when she heard the phone buzz on the edge of her hearing. She would text Haigha after the mission. No need to make her worry over a mission this easy. Assuming that Haigha did worry.

***

  
The Vishkar warehouse stuck out of the scenery like a tooth emerging from a fish’s eyeball. Hana had never seen any buildings like it before. There were no windows, no seams, not even a hint of imperfection that came with man-made structures. Only one normal-sized door in the front and one large garage door in the back. According to Satya there were multiple automatic turrets built into each side and more cameras than she could count. Which, considering this was Satya, was a lot. This was the woman who once challenged Hanzo and Winston to a pi reciting contest and won. Luckily for them there was one thing Vishkar never prepared for: their energy generators couldn’t work in subzero temperatures.

Fareeha’s voice crackled over the communication line. “Everyone, status report.”

“Alpha team here! My endothermic blaster is charged and ready!” Mei said, but quickly added, “but I’m standing right next to you so you already know that.”

“Still good to keep the team updated. Beta team? Have you secured your position?”

“Don’t you worry, sis,” said Jesse. “Me and Zenyatta are camped out right by the garage door. He’s already taken care of the cameras so we’re just sitting pretty until it’s go time.”

“I wish to state for the record that McCree must now cook dinner for a week,” Zenyatta chimed in. “He made a bet after doubting my skills.”

“Zen here took out twelve cameras with six of his balls! You should have seen it!”

Fareeha began to say something, but cut herself off and took a deep breath instead. “Noted. Gamma team? Do you have your distraction ready?”

Hana tore her eyes off the building to respond. “Hell yeah we do! Right Roadie?”

Roadhog looked up from his knitting and nodded. The second they touched down he had pulled a half-made sock out of thin air to work on as they waited. There was something oddly adorable about the half-ton murder machine knitting like her grandmother used to. The image of Junkrat wearing said sock only made it cuter.

“Excellent. According to Satya we will have less than thirty seconds to act before the emergency generators kick in. Jesse and Zenyatta, you must get through the garage door in that time. Hana and Mako, Mei and I will be able to draw off some fire but we’re counting on you to hold the security’s attention until the payload has been secured. Start on my mark.”

“You got it Bird Mom!” Hana silenced the communicator before Fareeha could snap back at her. “Ready to scuff up that big old white block, Roadie?”

Roadhog shoved his knitting into a side-pocket and snorted. “Never liked brutalist architecture anyway. Makes a building stand out like a dog’s balls. Let’s go fuck it up.”

Hana did a quick mental count and, yes, that was the most words she ever heard Roadhog say at once. She turned the lights of her MEKA off and lead the way around the rocky outcropping they had hidden behind. Her finger twitched over the defense matrix button but Hana kept it still. Wait for the right moment.

“I didn’t know you were into architecture,” Hana whispered over the communication channel.

“Double minored in architecture and art history,” Roadhog replied.

“Oh.” Hana paused, stopping her MEKA right on the edge of a short cliff. They was a drop and less than a hundred feet away from the front door of the warehouse. “What was you major?”

“Agricultural Science. Done talking?”

“Pfft, you wish.”

Hana wasn’t sure if the noise Roadhog made was a grunt or a chuckle, but either way she was sticking to her him-warming-up theory. If there was one thing she learned in the service it’s that there was no such thing as a loner for more than one mission. Either they joined the team or they were left on the battlefield. And she’d rather have everyone in Overwatch be a big happy family than the alternative.

Roadhog did know what he was talking about with the whole dog’s balls thing. Not only did the Vishkar warehouse stand out, but it looked wrong. Same with the road connected to it, the roads beyond, and the too-perfect Vishkar buildings in the distance. They weren’t part of the scenery, they crushed it down. Even in the dark Hana could make out where the old roads used to run and where buildings once stood. Vishkar had simply removed everything and dropped their stuff on top, not caring if nothing lined up.

That and the building glowed a soft whitish-blue. That was weird.

“Gamma team!” Fareeha’s voice snapped over the line, “Go!”

“Roger! Cover me Roadie!”

With a flick of her wrists the MEKA’s boosters rumbled to life. Hana closed her eyes for just a second to feel the machine’s vibrations run through her body. If there was a single thing wrong with her baby she would have felt it in an instant. But her MEKA only purred eagerly to get the battle started. She kicked back against the booster pedal and braced herself as, moving as one, Hana and the MEKA soared through the air towards the warehouse. For a brief, blissful moment she flew like a feather lost on a summer breeze. Then she cut rockets off early and landed with a heavy thump right in front of the main door.

Lights flooded the front of the Vishkar warehouse as a half dozen spotlights shone down on Hana. Her heart sang, her skin tingled, and every cell in her body wanted nothing more than to step out for the crowd. But she was on a mission. Also the warehouse was automated so there wasn’t anyone to perform for anyway. Hana flipped on her speaker and cleared her throat. “Hiya!” she said, her voice echoing through the night. “It’s me, Satya! I’m back!”

Hana heard the sound of metal sliding against metal. That was probably the gun slots opening.

“That’s right! I’m Satya and I am _sooo_ sorry about the whole quitting thing, you guys!” 

A high pitched whine filled the air. The guns warming up perhaps?

“I thought about it and you know what? You bad guys are way better than dumb, stupid Overwatch! Being a hero is just sooooo lame! And  Lúcio keeps stealing my food, too!”

Hana turned on her defense matrix before the first gun fired. Bullets bounced off her shield with an odd thud-thud-thud instead of a ping-ping-ping, almost as if she was being pelted with socks full of rice. Her eyes left the front of the warehouse for a split second to look at the ground and see--

“Bean bags? Why are they shooting bean bags?”

“Aww shucks, they’re usin’ non-lethal forces against us!” Jesse answered with a laugh over the line. “They must want to take us in alive! News to me, usually they want me dead. Mako?”

“Same,” Roadhog replied before he stepped out from behind the rocky outcropping and fired his scrap gun at the warehouse. The spotlights above exploded one by one, giving Hana only a glimpse of the falling shattered glass before it vanished against the building’s soft blue glow.

Hana laughed, unable to hold her excitement back any longer. She dropped the defense matrix and ran towards the left side of the building in an attempt to draw the automatic weapons’ attention. During the pre-mission briefing Satya had brought up the fact the weapons tended to shoot at whatever target was the biggest, brightest, and loudest on the battlefield. With a flick of her wrist and a long ago memorized button combo her MEKA turned into a bipedal party machine.

With  Lúcio’s latest album blasting through the MEKA’s speakers as its lights flashed in time to the beat, Hana rounded the corner of the building. The second she came into view the left side opened up with an array of guns and cameras. She could barely hear the whine of the guns warming up over the music. “Roadie! You got the front?”

Roadhog grunted. That was a yes grunt.

“Then leave this side to me!” Hana didn’t even bother to bring her shield up as the guns fired a volley of beanbags straight at her. Outside of the annoying doink-doink-doink against the hull they bounced off useless to the ground. Sure, she could distract all of the guns on that side by simply doing a little dance, but that wasn’t her. That wasn’t how Super Streamer War Hero Hana Song lived her life!

Hana sprinted, well, Hana ran as fast as the MEKA could go before she switched on her boosters and with a double-wrist flick shot up into the night sky. She was a firework, a shooting star of light and music over the otherwise dark land below. Her MEKA shook a little at the overwhelming number of beanbags being shot at her, but she didn’t worry. This was a maneuver she had done a thousand times before back home. She was a star through and through, willing to take the spotlight so others may stay hidden in the shadows. Hana closed her eyes to lose herself in the fantasy of flying by her own volition without a technological assistance.

The problem with endings is that it’s impossible to know when they are about to occur.

For example, Hana was completely unaware that her luck had come to an abrupt end.

She saw the light first. A purple-pink flash of color bright enough to make Hana open her eyes out of shock. Next came the silence. The pounding of the music had stopped, the whine of the guns had stopped, the high-pitched buzz of the communicator had stopped, but most terrifyingly of all her rockets had also stopped. Her eyes darted across the screen but no, the HUD was gone, the lights were gone, all the power was just gone.

That meant her landing gear was gone too.

Her stomach dropped.

The rest of her dropped as well.

In retrospect Hana was a little disappointed that her life didn’t flash before her eyes. Maybe it was because she was too occupied getting her MEKA back online so she wouldn’t die on impact. But in those horrifying seconds as the desert ground raced closer only one thought echoed through her entire being. Out of a life peppered with regret there was only one which stood out like the Vishkar building over the remains of a long dead city.

She never texted Haigha back.

It was that thought, the image of Haigha waiting for a text that would never arrive, that made Hana hit the eject button right as the ground overcame her vision. She flung out of her MEKA, hoping beyond hope that she would land on a soft part of the desert floor. In an attempt to wring out one last drop of luck Hana tucked and rolled, hitting solid land on her shoulder instead of her neck. She heard the disgusting noise of her arm popping out of her socket but thankfully the adrenaline rush was numbing the pain. Angela was going to kill her. Brigitte was going to kill her. The MEKA exploding was going to kill her. Hana curled up as tight as she could and braced for the worst.

When Hana didn’t die in a fiery eruption, she lifted her head up to see what was holding up her death.

Instead of being mid-explosion the MEKA hovered silently in the air just a few feet off the ground. Normally when the MEKA activated landing mode it involved a lot of thrusters, noise, and physics that went right over her head. But right then the machine was dead silent, hanging in the air like a corpse pinned to the night sky. In the faint moonlight Hana swore she saw something wrap around her MEKA - Dust? Bats? Birds? - before the machine dropped onto the desert floor with a soft thump. Wind howled in Hana’s ears as the shadows - Moths? Butterflies? - scattered only to sweep over Hana, bringing with it a scent of dust and old flowers. The wind faded. The shadows were gone. Her MEKA was fine. Her shoulder was starting to hurt like a real bitch.

“What. The fuck.” Hana said into the night air. The night air didn’t answer back.

***

Meanwhile Sombra, sitting on the edge of the Vishkar warehouse’s roof, let out the breath she was holding.

Stupid! How could she be so stupid? Why didn’t Hana tell her that she was going on a mission? Sombra didn’t see the MEKA rocketing across the sky until after her EMP went off. She wouldn’t have even known Hana was in danger if it wasn’t for Roadhog’s shouting. His squeal had been loud enough to tear her eyes off her work and notice the falling silhouetted against the moon. All because she was too stupid to check the Overwatch mission records! Stupid, stupid stupid stupid-

“You’re welcome.”

Sombra twitched, not bothering to hide the fact that Reaper had snuck up on her. Whatever snark she had previously constructed in her head had vanished in the moonlight. “Gracias,” she mumbled, unable to pry her eyes off Hana’s prone form. Even in the distance Sombra could see Hana’s shoulder wasn’t moving right. A few inches to the right and she would have landed on her neck. Or her head. Or-

“You think too damn loud. Relax. Your bunny’s fine,” said Reaper, this time his voice losing the embedded gravel. Black smoke settled on the roof’s edge beside her, only to blow away and leave a far more normal looking older man behind. Gabe pulled a colorful small paper packet out of his hoodie’s pocket and tossed it to Sombra. She caught it, of course. 

“How did you sneak Fun Dip past Mr. Clean Living and Even Cleaner Eating?” Sombra asked before tearing open the small packet with her teeth. The cloud of cherry-flavoured sugar that poofed out was almost enough to clear her head.

“What Akande doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

“That is entirely untrue.”

Gabe smiled to himself as he opened up his own fun dip packet. “Look, if he wants to eat nothing but lentils and barley porridge that’s all him. But there’s no way in hell I can live without crappy overly-processed meat and sugar flowing in my veins.”

“Agreed.” Sombra fished out and began the repetitive process of licking of scooping sour cherry sugar with an equally sugary stick. Somewhere within her she knew that eating candy to calm down made no sense. Eating candy that tastes like how fruit scented markers smelled probably didn’t help either. But the motion of the scooping and licking grounded her to the moment and not the thousands of questions and curses running through her head.

They sat together like that, having their boss-forbidden snack, as they watched Jesse and Zenyatta run out of the warehouse towards Hana’s prone figure. Huh. Sombra had never seen the omnic run before. Here she thought he just sorta floated everywhere. The second they reached Hana a golden glow surrounded the three of them, bright enough in the darkness to make Sombra flinch. The light only lasted a few seconds before fading into nothing, bathing them in darkness once more.

Sombra moved her head just enough to look over at Gabe. For all the teasing she gives him about his Reaper costume, he really did resemble an owl in his normal state. It was the way he held himself still, his dark eyes wide and his shoulders tensed as if ready to swoop down on his prey. Like he was a rubber band about to snap at any second. He watched the Overwatch agents help their injured comrade, his eyes flickering just enough to track their movements.

“We could go down there.”

Sombra’s words were enough to snap the band, catching Gabe off-guard. He shot a look that was more confused than anything else. She waved her fun dip in the direction of the heroes.

“We go down there, turn ourselves in, and tell them everything. Let them clean up Talon’s mess. Akande and Moria will be pissed, sure, but we’ll be locked up in some old secret Blackwatch holding cell safe and sound while the world burns. Then when the dust is starting to settle we can slip out right under their noses and vanish into the night. They wouldn’t even notice we’re gone. What do we say? Shall we step out of the shadows?”

Gabe’s silence lasted a beat too long. “You’d never let yourself get locked up.”

“I would if you told me to.”

That got a snort. “Since when do you ever listen to me?”

Sombra scrapped the last of the powdered sugar from the creases of the paper packet in an attempt to get one last lick. “What can I say? You’ve grown on me after death. Like how you forget how annoying your Grandmother’s nagging was after she dies.”

“I’m touched.” Gabe shoved his empty fun dip packet into his hoodie pocket and stood. Shadows nipped at his edges, signaling that the conversation was over. “Did you get the information?”

“Did I, honestly!” Sombra popped the sugar stick into her mouth and rose to her feet as well, “Do you think I would be sitting out here, enjoying your wonderful company, if I didn’t?”

“Answer the question.”

Sombra rolled her eyes. “Yes, Papa. Not only do I have it, but I also erased every trace of it off of Vishkar’s systems _and_ destroyed the computers with my EMP _and_ I shot the servers several times just to make sure. I even used proper Overwatch ammunition since you asked so kindly. As far as Vishkar knows our heroes wiped their storage banks clean instead of just stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down. We were never here.”

A low rumble filled the air signaling the arrival of the Orca. The ship thankfully landed not too far from Hana and teammates and opened the main hatch. With Zenyatta’s guidance Jesse scooped Hana up and entered the opening was wide enough for him to slip through. From their spot on the roof Sombra could just see the other agents escorting a dangerously overstacked payload of boxes to the ship, pausing only to look over Hana’s MEKA. There was a brief discussion cut short by Roadhog simply picking the MEKA up like a basket of laundry and carrying it inside.

“Last chance,” Sombra said, her voice barely a whisper.

Gabe didn’t answer. Instead the haze around his edges grew and wrapped around Gabe as if he was stepping into a pool of black ink. The liquid-like shadows formed and settled into the cloak and gauntlets of his Reaper costume. “Meet you back at HQ noon tomorrow?”

“As if we have anywhere else to go.” Sombra tossed her empty fun dip packet at Gabe, who caught it without looking. “You didn’t answer me.”

Gabe shook his head. She only caught a brief glimpse of his distant eyes before his masked formed and hid them away once more. “Jack would kill me.”

“Always with Jack! You have to talk to him sometime, you know. Maybe get some couples counseling, go on a second honeymoon--”

“Noon. Tomorrow.” Whatever else Sombra had to say was cut off by smoke wrapping itself around Gabe, twisting and turning before scattering itself into the wind, leaving Sombra with nothing but that horrible dead flower smell that always stuck in her clothes. She kicked vaguely in the direction the wind and even shook her fist for good measure.

“You can’t run away from your feelings forever, Papa!” Sombra shouted up at the night sky above, only for her words to be smothered by the roar of the Orca’s engines. She snapped her invisibility on just as the ship traveled overhead, low enough that she could feel the heat blasting from the engines. Despite the noise and wind she could still feel her phone vibrate in her pocket. Sombra wasted no time in pulling it out in hopes for a message from Hana. Something saying that she was okay, that everything was fine, that she didn’t break her spine, anything. Instead what waited for Sombra was a notification from her Pachicare.

_Your Pachimari OCTOROK made a new friend while you were away! HER name is MURKY! HER Mommy’s name is HANA and her favorite color is PINK! Yay!_

Sombra looked back up just in time to see the Orca turn into a dot on the horizon. She looked back down at her phone where her Skeleton Pachimari was dancing happily with one in a bunny costume.

“Well, fuck.”


	2. Treble Clef - Hana

_ Your Pachimari MURKY made a new friend while you were away! THEIR name is OCTOROK! THEIR Parent’s name is SOMBRA and their favorite animal is the CHAMELEON! Wowzers! _

Hana’s alert filled the largest screen in the mission briefing room. In front of the screen, dressed in her most formal lab coat, was Satya. She glared at the message as if it was a personal insult against her and everything she stood for. Satya took a deep calming breath before turning to face the rest of the team. Hana did catch the smile Satya shot Fareeha before she began to speak.

“When I first read the report I had assumed the EMP was part of a last-ditch security measure installed by Vishkar. A tad overkill perhaps, but within the realm of possibility. However this message invalidates that theory. This message proves there was someone else in the building that night.”

“We’re lucky Hana left her phone on the ship!” Mei said from her spot at the table. 

“Indeed,” Zenyatta added. “Everyone else’s phone was destroyed by the EMP blast.”

“How come the monk wasn’t offed?” asked Roadhog. 

“Magic,” said Jesse.

Satya’s robotic arm twitched. “The EMP set off was double exponential pulse wavelength while Omnics are more affected by damped sinewave pulse wavelengths. This combined with Zenyatta’s ability to channel unusual energy levels gives him a natural immunity to EMPs and other power surges.”

“See? Magic!”

“How do we know the person was in the building?” Fareeha asked just loud enough to cut that topic of conversation off before it got out of hand. 

Satya waved her hand and a holographic projection of the Vishkar warehouse appeared on the large table in front of her. They had all seen it before the mission, but now it was covered in floating notations in Satya’s handwriting. She even drew little stick figures to represent where everyone was after the EMP blast. Hana’s MEKA was represented by a spherical bunny squished onto the ground next to a stick version of herself. 

“After researching the Pachicare app I have determined that the contact between the two phones must have happened right as the ship was passing over.” An arc of dashed lines crossed over the top of the projected building as she spoke. “Considering the maximum range of said, app our mystery person must have been on the roof as the Orca flew by.”

“There wasn’t anyone on the roof.” Jesse leaned forward in his chair. “They would have stuck out like a sore thumb on that big old blank space. We would have saw them a mile away!”

Zenyatta hummed. “But we did not. Curious. Hana? What are your thoughts?”

Hana fiddled with the strap of her arm sling. No matter how many times she adjusted it her left arm still felt off. “Was the payload affected by the EMP?”

Satya looked taken aback. “No? Vishkar stores all of its more fragile equipment in specially designed containers to protect from all electromagnetic pulses of any wavelength frequency. However…”

“However?” Fareeha asked.

“However, I cannot for certain say the same about any computers or servers located at that facility. If this was located in a massive city, yes, but due to the warehouse’s remote location they may not have bothered. After all, computers and servers can be easily replaced. Vital hardlight technology cannot. Their focus would be on protecting the latter, not the former.”

“Which means--” Jesse started, only to get cut off by Fareeha.

“Whoever set off the EMP did it to wipe out all of the computers and servers, just like that empty Talon base we checked out three weeks ago.” 

Jesse nodded. “‘Cept this time, they decided to show up the same time we did instead of a couple hours before. Assumin’ it’s the same crowd.”

“A mutual enemy of Talon and Vishkar,” Mei said.

“You’d think they’d be our friends,” Hana added.

“Probably not. Sombra’s made up of a dodgy bunch of cunts.”

Everyone’s heads in the room swiveled to stare at Roadhog. Sometime during the mission debriefing he had finished knitting the pink sock and moved onto an orange one. Noticing the sudden rise in attention, Roadhog cleared his throat. “Sorry, I meant they’re made up of a dodgy bunch of bastards. I promised Ana I would cut down on swearing.”

Roadhog paused in his knitting, finally looking up at the blank stares of his teammates around him. “What?”

***

“Sombra? You mean those mad cunts from England? What about them?” Junkrat peered over the cinder block blast wall that sectioned off his area of the workshop for the safety of everyone. The post mission meeting had taken a short fiddle-with-phones break before reconvenning at Junkrat’s workstation. Or at least the wall in front of it. Before anyone could respond Junkrat held up a hand. “Sorry, meant mad  _ bastards _ . Don’t want to get on your oldie’s bad side again, Fareeha. Won’t lie, I’m still gobsmacked she didn’t string me up after our first run-in.”

“As are we all,” Fareeha said, using what Hana thought of as her leader voice. It worked because Junkrat’s shoulders squared right up.

Satya stepped in as she usually did when it came to getting information from Junkrat. “We may have had a run in with one of their members during the previous mission. Any information you have on them would be helpful.” 

“Well, I don’t know ‘em personally, if that’s what you want to know. It’s not like we’re sending each other Christmas cards. They contacted us back when Roadie and me were laying low in England for a bit, right out of the blue! Craziest thing ever! We were having a nice quiet time at a pub-”

Roadhog made a half-laugh half-grunt noise. “Quiet for us.”

“Yeah yeah, so there we were, minding our own business, not setting anything on fire, when the bartender walks over and says, eh, there’s someone on the phone for you. We try to tell ‘em to piss off but he’s not taking no for an answer. So I grabbed his phone and I hear this voice that sounds like a real clanker-” Junkrat stopped himself dead in his tracks and punched the top of the blast wall. “Omnic! Omnic.”

Zenyatta hummed happily to himself, but said nothing else so Junkrat continued. “Sounded like an omnic, probably had some sort of voice changer thingy. They said they were part of Sombra and was a huge fan of our work. Really enjoyed our bank heist in Dorado, said it was the funniest thing they’ve seen in ages. So as thanks for, eh, how’d they put it, Roadie?”

“Assisting in the destruction of a capitalist regime.”

“Yeah, for assisting them they gave us the security codes for the Tower of London.”

Fareeha snapped out of her leader stance. “They had the security codes to the  _ Tower of London?  _ I was there when Helix upgraded their systems right before the robbery! Only two people have the codes to that, and one is the Queen!” 

“Heist,” Junkrat corrected. “When there’s a map it’s a heist.”

“He’s got you there, sis,” said Jesse.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Hana tried to hold up her hand, remembered it was tied down, and lifted the other instead. “So this Sombra group contacted you and gave you the codes, right? So what did they want in return.”

Roadhog shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” echoed Mei. 

“We even offered!” Junkrat answered. “Told them they could have that holy hand grenade thing! But they declined! Said not to worry about it, that it’s a gift from a fan.”

Hana looked over at Zenyatta as soon as he made what Genji always called his loading noise. Once Genji pointed it out she couldn’t stop hearing it right before Zenyatta said something very monk-like. “They relished in the chaos created by the bank heist and wished to see it on a larger scale. A motivation far more dangerous than the desire for money or power.”

“Is it possible that the EMP was done for the same reason?” Mei asked.

Zenyatta shook his head. “Unlikely. I did not feel anything unusual during the mission. I suspect this time the Sombra hacker had far more practical reasons.”

“It may not even be the same person,” Satya said. “No one knows how many members there are of Sombra, or what their desired goal is. They may not even have a single goal.”

Jesse cleared his throat. “You know, I might know someone who could help us out with this Sombra thing. Might take some time to hunt them down though. Assumin’ they’re still alive.”

“Wow, feel like being more vague and mysterious there, Jesse?” Hana asked.

“An old cowpoke like me has to keep their secrets. Also because I was serious about not knowing if my old contact’s alive or dead. Might take a bit.”

Fareeha nodded. “Go right ahead. It’s the closest thing to a lead we have. I’m going to go update Winston on the mission debriefing.”

Satya took a half-step closer to Fareeha. “May I go with you? I need to speak to him about my teleporter upgrades.”

“Ohh?” Fareeha asked as a smile formed on her face. “Is that all?”

Satya returned that smile in full. “Perhaps afterwards we can take a walk through Bastion’s garden? If that is okay with you, my jaani?”

That word, spoken with such fondness and devotion, was enough to send a ripple through the group of agents. 

“Oh! What time is it? I promised Zarya that I would meet her-”

“Excuse me, but I think it’s time for me and Hanzo to go take the noodles for a walk-”

“And I must take my leave as well. Genji asked for me to be there while Angela fixes-”

“Brother, I swear if ‘take the noodles for a walk’ means what I think it means-”

“No my jaani, they really do take them for a walk-”

“Yeah, it’s adorable! I have a video of it on my-” Hana pulled her phone out, but before she could even bring the video up the other agents were already trailing out of the workshop. Jesse on his own phone, Zenyatta chatting with Mei, and Fareeha and Satya lost in their own little world. Only Roadhog and Junkrat remained behind. The fact that neither of them spoke right away only made the odd twist in Hana’s stomach hurt a little more.

Junkrat took a few steps back and in a shocking show of dexterity leapt over the concrete brick wall and landed next to Hana on the other side. He looked at her, then at Roadhog, and then back at Hana before he spoke. “Million dollars.”

The twist in Hana’s stomach unfurled a little. “Million dollars.”

“You gotta admit it’s a lot of money, even for a superstar like you.”

“Totally.”

“Million dollars, but instead of a rabbit you gotta change your MEKA mascot to a duck-billed platypus.” 

Hana paused, really letting that question sink in. “Do I have to change my color scheme?”

“No, but you gotta put a giant duck bill on the front of your MEKA.”

“Wait, really? It’s not like it has bunny ears now!”

“Kinda does,” said Roadhog.

“Has to be a big old yellow one too! Right around where your arms go!”

Hana looked over to the other side of the workshop where her poor MEKA rested, waiting for Brigitte’s arrival. She did her best to picture running through a warzone with a large duck bill. “No way! That would throw off the balance like crazy!”

“Yeah, but you could also get poisonous spikes on your feet! Imagine the kicking you could do!” Junkrat helpfully demonstrated with a kick, only for Roadhog to grab him before he completely lost his footing. The junkers laughed, and there was that twist in Hana’s stomach again.

She glanced at the time. Almost two in the morning. 

Almost seven at night in Mexico. 

Hana pocketed her phone. “I gotta run. You lovebirds don’t do anything gross around my MEKA!”

“Wait! Do adding poison covered spikes count?” Junkrat asked as Hana left the workshop, his question sadly unanswered.

***

Hana tried to make it to her bedroom first, but she couldn’t wait. As soon as she left the workshop she shot Haigha a quick text.

_ Can I call you? _

The phone rang before Hana could close the text app. Heart firmly lodged in her throat Hana leaned back against the hallway’s metal wall and answered.

“Ha-”

“HANA! What happened? Were you on a mission? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”

Hana closed her eyes, letting the other woman’s voice wash over her. Whatever nerves remained from the mission smoothed out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I tried to text you sooner but Winston wanted to check my phone and then I had to go to the mission debriefing and I think Junky and Roadie want to turn my MEKA into a duck--”

“Wait,  _ what? _ ”

“But I’m fine! Really.” 

Hana heard the sound of a chair squeak over the line. She tried to picture Haigha leaning back in her computer chair, fingernails tapping against the glass front of her phone. Haigha did mention she enjoyed getting her nails done, so that was one solid fact at least. “Hana. Are you _fine_ fine, or D.va fine?”

“My arm might have gotten popped out of its socket.”

From the other side of the conversation Hana heard a series of noises that she assumed to be Haigha standing up, pushing her chair back, her chair smacking into a desk or table, and a whispered prayer for any number of electronics on said desk to not fall over. “Tell me everything that happened, and also if your injury was caused by one of your coworkers. Like the cowboy. Please say it’s not the cowboy.”

Hana sank to the ground, knees pressed against her chest, her wounded arm snugly tucked between them and her body. “Jesse didn’t do anything.”

“Good. He’s one of the few over there I like.”

“I told you, they’re not so bad once you get to know them! Like Bastion’s a total sweetheart. You’d love Bastion. For an old war machine he makes the cutest beeps and boops.”

“ _Hana_. Don’t avoid the topic. Tell me what happened.”

So she did. Hana went over most of the details, leaving out a few key things like locations, where exactly they were breaking into and why. When she hit the part of the EMP going off and her MEKA going dead she heard Haigha’s breath catch but the other woman said nothing. Even when she talked about the fall and the weird shadow tornado Haigha didn’t respond. It was only when Hana mentioned the Pachicare message that she spoke up.

“Sombra? The hacker group?”

“I know, right? They’ve never really popped up in a mission before. Some people here have had run-ins with them, but no one is like, their enemy? I guess? Fareeha’s worried they were trying to mess with the mission but I think we just sorta ran into each other. Like bumping into an old classmate you don’t want to see while you’re both stuck in line for a midnight release.”

Haigha made a clicking noise in the back of her throat. “And how many times has that happened to you?”

“Six, seven if you count the time my old classmate was working the register. You know what’s really crazy? Only four of those happened in Korea.”

“A tale I’ll get the details of another time. Did anything else happen with Sombra?”

Hana shrugged at the world in general. “Nothing. Everyone else’s phones got bricked. Mine is only working because I left it on the Orca. Good thing too, I’d go crazy if I was stuck in base without a working phone.”

Another tap-tap of a nail against glass. How long were her nails? How did she type so fast using them? Why couldn’t Hana stop thinking about it? No, wait, she knew the answer to that one. It was the same reason her stomach fluttered whenever Haigha talked to her instead of just through texts. “They must have had some reason to, wait, wait. You’re stuck in the base? I thought you said you just popped your arm out of the socket!”

“Yeah. About that. Turns out it’s not like in the movies where you just pop it back in and you’re like good to go. Dr. Angela’s put me on light duty for two to six weeks.” Hana flinched as the words left her mouth. It was bad enough when Winston gave her the news that she was off the mission roster for the time being. Okay, it wasn’t like she could do anything till Brigitte showed up to work on the MEKA, but still! Two to six weeks! The world couldn’t wait that long!

“The world will simply have to wait for their favorite hero to recover.”

There was that fluttering feeling again, and Hana sure as hell wasn’t going to hide from it. “You mean your favorite hero, right?”

Haigha laughed, “I don’t know. I hear there’s a rather friendly Bastion unit that works as a gardener. I rather like the sounds of them. Perhaps we could talk about succulents while you’re off saving the day?”

“Okay just because of that I’m totally not going to untie you from any railroad tracks anytime soon.” Hana tried to sound angry, but her smile prevented her from succeeding. “Oh! Um, I also wanted to call you to let you know that even though I’m off duty I’m still going to RetCon at the end of the month. Don’t know if I’ll be able to dress up with this sling though.”

“And here I was looking forward to your queen bee outfit! I suppose we will have to settle for both of us looking amazingly average. We shall dazzle the crowds with our ability to go completely unnoticed!”

Hana shifted her legs. They were starting to go numb, but she didn’t want to move yet. “Oh yeah? You think you can out-normal me? I’m going to look so mundane no one will recognize me! I’ll be invisible as the wind! Whoosh!” 

“You. The movie star model streamer professional esports star war hero that is currently on every can of Nano soda. Unrecognizable.” 

“Ooo, is that doubt I hear? Don’t think I can do it?”

“I would love to see you try.”

Oh, oh did the way Haigha say that send a shiver down Hana’s spine. Not just because of her voice! But the challenge, the guts to call her out! Hana had only really known Haigha for a little over half a year, but she was already addicted to the spark in her voice. All her previous worries and nerves about meeting Haigha in person vanished into thin air.

“It’s on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my [Tumblr](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com) for more Overwatch shipping! And don't be afraid to drop a line! I'm lonely! 
> 
> Want to know what happened to Cyber Vale? [Click here!](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com/post/148519005156/hey-wheres-welcome-to-cyber-vale)
> 
> And check out [My Blog](https://aughtpunk.wordpress.com/) for updates and original fiction!


	3. Bass Clef - Sombra

The internet was down.

Sombra stared at the near-ancient monitor, as if she could simply will the computer into submission. She had reached the bitter end of her normal fix-it list but the internet refused to connect to even older hardware. In an act of pure desperation, Sombra crawled under her desk, unplugged her modem, and plugged it back in again. The large plastic tower hummed to life and let out a series of clicks and beeps that no machine in the past fifty years had made. She waited until the machine settled down before she hoisted herself back up into her patched-up office chair.

Still down.

“I will burn this world and everything in it,” Sombra calmly explained to the computer. The computer did not respond nor offer any advice for her problem. That’s the issue with old technology. Sure, they say they have helpful fake-AIs to assist you, but in reality they were just glorified search engines. Sombra lowered her face into her hands and took a deep, calming breath. She then took a peek at the screen between her fingers.

Nothing.

With a hard kick Sombra wheeled her chair the whole three feet it took to reach her bed and grabbed her teddy bear. She lifted the bear up just enough to look him square in his beady black eyes. “Arturito. I am the greatest hacker in the world. I can bring governments down to their knees. With a flick of my wrist, I can change the fate of thousands, if not millions. So why can’t I get this God-damned COMPUTER TO WORK?!”

Señor Arturito Sleepyhead did not answer, but that didn’t stop Sombra from imagining the bear replying to her in the old gravely voice she always gave him. If you can’t do it, the bear didn’t explain, that means there’s an outside force affecting it.

“Outside force. Right. The router could be offline. Or perhaps something happened to one of the satellites I’m mooching off of.”

Or one of your teammates fucked it up, the teddy bear did not say because it could not talk, again.

Sombra sighed. “Yes, yes that sounds about right. Thank you, Arturito.” She gave the bear a fond kiss on top of the head before returning it to its rightful place next to her pillow. As always, the bear was right. The most likely cause was one of her brand-new roommates messing things up yet again. Every time she brought in a new piece of equipment they seemed determined, nay, compelled to poke at it until said equipment broke. At least Moira always documented what she did while going on her poking rampage.

Sombra left her pitifully small bedroom (a sacrifice she had to make in order to get a room with the largest window) and headed down the stairs of the old rowhouse. To the outside world, the rowhouse looked just like all the others that lined the brightly-colored cracked streets of Puebla, Mexico. It was a charming two-level home with a backyard, side garage, and even a good sized tool shed out back. Even if someone off the street were to wander inside the rowhouse still looked normal if decorated by someone who leaned more towards practical than artistic. No, most people would never realize that the windows were bullet proof, the walls soundproof, and the doors strong enough to shield against a small army of angry omnics. But, to be fair, said random person probably would have realized something was up the second they met any of the rowhouse’s inhabitants.

Time to hit up the list of usual suspects. Sombra silently moved through the living room, being careful not to disturb the lump of crocheted blankets on the couch. She did pause long enough to make sure the pile was rising and falling enough to ensure whoever was curled up under the yarn mountain was still alive. Or, in Gabe’s case, pretending to be alive. He had been so happy when she confirmed that he breathed in his sleep. Snored too, but she didn’t mention that part. She poked her head around the front of the couch to confirm it was Gabe snoozing away in front of the television.

Right. Gabe most likely fell asleep right after he showed up around noon, possibly more around one. Which meant he had been out like a light during the internet shutdown. Good, Sombra didn’t feel like having yet another trying-to-explain-technology-to-grandpa conversation. She slipped out the back door, careful to close it slow enough to not wake the kinda-dead. Onto the next suspect, which meant facing the garden.

Well, at some point in time it had been a proper garden. The rowhouse had been abandoned for years by the time they moved in, and the backyard reflected its neglect the most. Nature had overtaken what little order the previous tenants had wrangled from the land. Barren bushes clung onto the fence, weeds overtook the flower beds, and clumps of dead grass dotted the ground alongside patches of dirt. The only sign of human life was the worn path that connected the back door to the detached shed.

Sombra scurried across the dying yard holding her breath, only releasing when she made it to the shed door. There weren’t any weird noises coming from the other side which meant Moira's experiments were either going really well or she was already dead. Sombra knocked anyway, just in case.

"Go away," said a muffled Moira. Alive it was.

"Moooira," Sombra knocked again. "Let me iiiin."

No response.

"Please?"

Still no response.

So Sombra knocked. And kept knocking. She only had to keep up that steady rhythm for less than half a minute before Moira yanked the door wide open. Even while the rest of the team had long given up on wearing anything fancier than pajama pants, she still wore a button down shirt, slacks, and a lab coat. Sombra was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that Moira would choose death before leggings. "What do you want?"

"Internet's down."

Moira stared down at Sombra. "So you reverted to your natural state of a bratty child?"

" _So_ I'm making sure none of you guys broke my stuff again." Sombra met Moira's stare, and buckled almost immediately. "And I'm here to see Mr. Flopsy."

"You and that damned rabbit." Moira stepped back into the shed, allowing Sombra access. The shed was Sombra's biggest piece of evidence that Moira had mastered larger-on-the-inside technology. In a space that was barely big enough to fit a riding mower, Moira had set up an entire lab with a bed cot and mini-fridge. No bathroom, Sombra noted. Did Moira even need to use the bathroom? As far as she could tell, Moira existed entirely on coffee and only produced evil science.

Moira sat on her old computer chair that she rescued from the street corner. "I'm sorry to say that I haven't seen Mr. Flopsy around of late. Perhaps he met a bunny to settle down and start a family with. Or was hit by a truck."

"Saying stuff like that is why Mr. Flopsy doesn't like you." Sombra stepped inside, walking over to her favorite rack of bubbling test tubes. Now there was some proper looking science. Not like the rest of the machinery that filled the shack. "So did you mess with my internet or what?"

"No, I did not touch your precious life source, nor do I appreciate your accusations."

"You tried to dip my old Game Boy into a vat of acid!"

Moira smiled to herself. "I wished to see if antique video game systems were as hardy as you said. And it's not as if I’ve seen you playing with the old toy recently. It would have been a worthy sacrifice for the name of science. A far better fate than gathering dust on a shelf because you've grown bored."

Sombra almost corrected Moira, but decided that the secret of the missing Game Boy was better off unsaid. "You know, I am still amazed that you were ever allowed to have animals to test on, Miss Destroys-Everything-In-The-Name-of-Science."

"That's Doctor Destroys-Everything. Catch." Moira tossed a pill bottle at Sombra who easily caught it. "It's time for Amélie's afternoon dose."

Sombra shook the bottle. "And?"

"And?'

" _Annnnd_?"

Moira rolled her eyes. "And could you go administer the dose? Assuming it does not cut into your filled schedule of not being online or playing video games?"

Sombra continued to shake the pill bottle at Moira like a naughty cat being warned off the kitchen counter.

" _Please_?"

"There we are! That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sombra smiled at the grumbling scientist. "With a little practice you'll be the nicest evil scientist on the block!"

"And that's why you run the risk of having your things sacrificed in the name of science," Moira said before turning back to her work.

***

Amélie was awake. Only awake.

Sombra found her in her bedroom, sitting on the bed staring at nothing. Her breathing shallow, her eyes dim, her hands resting on her lap. She was awake. Alive. But only that. Perhaps she dreamed when she was like this. Somehow, Talon didn't seem to be merciful enough to allow her that one escape.

"Hey. Heeeey. Anyone home?" Sombra waved her hand in front of Amélie's face. Nothing. Snapped her fingers. Nothing. Booped Amélie's nose. Nothing. With a tired sigh, Sombra walked over and grabbed the clipboard hung on the wall next to the bed. Might as well get today's stats in while Amélie was out of it. Made it easier for both of them.

"Araignee. Faites attention."

Light returned to Amélie's eyes. She lifted her head just enough to meet Sombra's gaze, but no more.

"Araignee. Deshabiller."

Amélie stood and, without a word, undressed. Sombra looked away in order to give her some sort of privacy. She slipped out of her pajama pants, removed her old oversized sweater and sports bra before neatly folding everything both and placing it on the bed. Her task done she looked back at Sombra and silently awaited the next order. As she stood there, naked and unwavering, Sombra did have to admit she looked pretty good for someone who got an exploding tire to the face a few weeks back.

Her face was untouched thanks to her reflexively covering it as the explosion went off. The rest of her body wasn’t as lucky. Her arms and the entire right half of her body was no longer blue, but a sickly grey thanks to Gabe’s rushed patch job. Sombra wouldn’t call what Gabe’s nanites did healing. More like replacing. The microscopic machines had replaced Amélie’s damaged skin with no thought or care given to making it look good, or even human. They created an expansive spattering of scars that looked as if someone had dropped old yogurt onto a blueberry pie from high above.

Sombra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could fantasize about murdering every scientist in Talon later. First do the measurements, then imagine slowly strangling them to death. She removed a small plastic ruler off the back of the clipboard and began to take measurements of the grey skin across Amélie’s body. It had been Akande who noticed that the grey sections were growing, pointing out that the one small blob on her left shoulder now reached her neck. Moira wasn’t sure what it meant, but she took it as a good sign. Grey skin was better than blue, after all.

She made a few marks on Amélie’s skin with the pen as she wrote down today’s measurements. The grey scar on her hip had stretched over her stomach and was threatening to take her belly button down with it. Sombra also made note how the edge of the blue skin on her right arm resembled a healing bruise, unlike the other blue edges across her skin. The tattoo that had once stretched across her forearm was now nothing more than a nonsense jumble of small black lines. She moved quickly, eager to return Amélie’s humanity as quick as she could.

“Araignee. Habiller.”

Sombra turned around this time to let Amélie dress in peace. She had been lucid at breakfast, which meant something after made her return to her neutral state. None of them knew what exactly did it. There were days Amélie would be fine, but then the next day they would find her facing the corner of her room close enough that her nose almost touched the wall. The worst was the night Sombra went to go get a midnight snack only to find Amélie laying on the kitchen table, as if she was a corpse on the mortuary slab.

Deep breath. Revenge was no longer an option. Sombra hung the clipboard back on the wall and turned back around to give the now thankfully dressed Amélie one last command.

“Araignee. Faites de beaux rêves.”

Amélie woke up.

The change spread through her all at once. One moment she was still, the next her shoulders were slouched and she was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She looked like someone who had been jostled out of a heavy sleep. And, in a way, that was true. Amélie yawned and finally seemed to notice Sombra standing a few feet away. “How long was I out?”

Sombra shrugged. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Amélie wobbled her way over to her desk and took a seat. The only things on it were a notebook that Sombra dared not look in and a pencil with a well chewed eraser. She opened the diary and flipped to a blank page. “I was watching a cooking show with Gabriel. The chef, if one could call them that, had ruined a perfectly good bottle of wine by turning it into some sort of jam. Such an act should only end with them being drawn and quartered.”

Well, that proved Amélie was back for the time being. Sombra took a seat at the end of her bed. Close enough to talk, but not close enough to see what she was writing. Not that Sombra wasn’t tempted to look. Not a day went by where the urge to read Amélie’s diary didn’t sink its fingers into her mind. But every time she got the itch she reminded herself that unlike her, Amélie hasn’t been allowed to have secrets in years. Let her keep her thoughts. “Let’s see, at most it’s been a couple of hours. Hungry? Dehydrated? Anything hurt?”

Amélie picked up her pencil and began to write in neat, flowing letters. “I am fine, Miss Clavel.”

“Are you _suuuure_?” Sombra asked. “Nothing weird at all, Madeline?”

“Perhaps a little sleepy—wait, no, there is something. What does it mean when you feel like you’re pacing inside yourself?”

That got Sombra the pause. “What?”

“It feels as if there’s a tiger in my chest, pacing in front of a door it cannot escape from. As if any moment it will snap and desperately attack the walls of its cage.”

“Uh.”

“No, no it feels closer to as if someone locked me in a closet. Not a closet. A locker. I cannot move my arms, or breathe, or do anything. I’m also kind of bored.”

Sombra really, really wished she or Gabe had been smart enough to kidnap a psychologist as part of their grand scheme, because she sure as hell wasn’t qualified for this. “Maybe you’re going stir crazy?”

Amélie moved around in her chair enough to face Sombra with bright eyes. “That’s it! I am restless! Thank you, that’s been bothering me all day. Perhaps I should walk outside a little before dinner. I have been meaning to see if I can get the garden under control. Thank you.”

“Speaking of emotions!” Sombra pulled the pill bottle out of her pocket and tossed it to Amélie, who didn’t move as it bounced off her arm to land on the desk. “You know the drill, right? Blue pills for sleep-”

“Orange and green with food, blue and purple with water, and the three white ones right before bed,” Amélie replied back in her normal monotone voice.

“Six pills a day keeps the creepy experiment-happy doctor away.” Sombra stood, but didn’t leave quite yet. “‘You know, I had wine jelly at a wedding once years ago on some fancy bread. I remember it being pretty tasty.”

Amélie’s nose wrinkled before she focused back on the page. “That is what Gabriel said. I refuse to believe such nonsense.”

***

Sombra’s cybernetics may have been installed for medical reasons, but it didn’t prevent her from doing her own adjustments. For example, instead of needing to have a large teleportation stabilizer strapped onto her chest Sombra simply had the parts installed into her spine along with the controls for her camouflage. Sure, some people would call her crazy for doing that. At least six people now that she thought about it. But losing the ability to comfortably sleep on her back was a small price to pay for being able to vanish at will. You never know when turning invisible would come in handy.

Like, for example, when Akande was working in the kitchen.

At first everyone had been thrilled when Akande took over cooking duties when they all moved in. Amélie could get by making eggs, yes, but the art of cooking was lost on Gabe and Sombra. That and there had been a mutual agreement to never, ever let Moira in the kitchen. Gabe even moved the coffee maker to the dining room to ensure that she would never take a step inside. Although after three weeks of living off Akande’s cooking Sombra wondered if they were better off eating Moira’s experimental recipes. Akande only cooked _healthy_ food.

Not just healthy food! No, it was always clean organic straight from the farmer’s market low fat low salt low cholesterol low taste low everything, served in a beige pile on an equally beige plate. At least the usual breakfast oatmeal could be smothered in a deluge of berries and syrup until it tasted like something. Lunch was liveable too, usually some sort of greens and meat in what passed as a salad. But dinner, oh dinner was the worst. Dinner contained _lentils_.

That’s why Sombra turned herself invisible before entering the kitchen. Not only was it her big chance to get a hint of what's for dinner, but it was also her big chance to grab something that wasn’t bean based to eat. Sombra waited until Akande was wrapped up in chopping a small mountain of vegetables on the kitchen island to silently sneak in. Luckily for her, when Akande was focused on a task he went blind to the rest of the world. Which, Sombra reflected, was why he was currently in a small kitchen in Mexico instead of leading Talon. She moved slowly, only taking steps when Akande chopped.

One step at a time. Slowly. Don’t rush it.

Wait until he’s distracted.

And then go for the cookie jar.

“No.”

Without looking Akande reached over and smacked Sombra in the chest with a wooden spoon, causing her invisibility to turn off. She tried to take a step forward but the wooden spoon in Akande’s hand refused to budge. Bastard was still chopping away single-handed. Showoff. “You don’t know what I was doing.”

“No,” Akande repeated.

“Maybe I was trying to assassinate you!”

“Only if you had a hidden weapon with the cookies.”

Sombra took a step back. “You’re not the boss of me anymore, you know.”

Akande pointed the wooden spoon directly at her nose. “A fact I cherish every day. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You can wait until then.”

“You’re also not my Dad.”

“If I were your father, I would have raised you on a real diet and not,” Akande waved the spoon around in his hand, "one consisting entirely of food that is either premade, instant, or microwaveable.”

Sombra moved around to the other side of the kitchen island. If Akande was going to halt her pre-dinner snacking then she was at least going to annoyingly hover for a bit. “So? I turned out fine!”

Akande dropped the spoon back on the chicken-shaped spoon rest before turning his scary-boss gaze straight at her. “When was the last time you ate a fresh vegetable?”

“I—”

“Before we arrived here.”

Sombra felt something brush up against her ankles. No, slithered was more like it. She didn’t bother to look down at the black smoke she knew was pooling on the floor around her. “Do those tomato juice-based health drinks count?”

Akande rolled his eyes before turning back to his chopping. Sombra could see the black smoke reach up the far counter like dripping ink going in reverse. She strode to Akande’s opposite side and spoke just loud enough to catch his attention. “Amélie said she’s feeling restless.”

Just as planned, Akande looked her way right as the black smoke reached the counter top. “She did?”

“Well, to be exact, she said she felt as if there was a tiger pacing around her chest while also being bored. Which I’m pretty sure means she’s stir-crazy. But hey! That’s a step in the right direction, right? She’s feeling something!”

“Sooner than Moira predicted,” Akande said.

“A month sooner! Maybe she’s onto something with that pill cocktail.” Sombra saw a flicker of shadows in the corner of her eye. An old signal from long ago. She leaned closer to Akande, pushing a bowl filled with chopped onions dangerously close to the island’s ledge. He grabbed at it, of course, which was enough to distract him from the cookie jar popping open. “You know, Amélie mentioned she was going to fix up the garden.”

“Did she?” Akande said, trying not to sound interested.

“Perhaps you should help her?”

Sombra had a theory. A small one, with no real supporting evidence beyond a hunch. A smile here, a helping hand there, and a usually murderous ex-boss strangely behaving himself. So when Akande spoke with his voice just a tad higher than normal Sombra mentally high-fived herself.

Akande pushed the bowl back into place and replied with a noncommittal grunt.

“Mmm-hmm. She might need some help with pulling all of the dead plants out, since Moira cannot be trusted with anything alive, Gabe causes flowers to wilt, and I have firmly established my plant skills are based in ignoring them. I thought—” Something tugged at her foot. The look Akande gave her was enough to say that he noticed her small pause, but she cleared her throat and continued. “I thought you could assist her.”

Akande didn’t respond right away. God she hated when he did that.

“Because you have cybernetic arms that won’t get scratched up or splinters.”

Akande’s eyebrow twitched but nothing beyond that. Drove her crazy. Always made her feel like she was talking to a brick wall that didn’t care about her opinions.

“And in the spring we could start a vegetable garden.”

That seemed to be the type of answer he was looking for. His whole frame relaxed. “I pray I am not stuck in this house that long, but it is always good to plan for the future. Not get out of the kitchen until I call for you.”

“Yessir, boss.” Sombra slid off the kitchen island, the smoke on the floor already moving slinking its way back towards the living room.

“I am not your boss anymore,” Akande replied with a slight smile.

“A fact I cherish every day!” Sombra called back over her shoulder as she left Akande to his cooking.

***

Gabe was no longer on the living room couch.

There was also a stack of cookies waiting for Sombra on her computer desk.

The two events were most likely related.

Sombra didn’t really take the time to enjoy the first few cookies, an old habit of hers, but she cherished every bite of the last one. She took the time chew up every bite, savor every chocolate chip, to memorize exactly how the cookie tasted even though there was more in the kitchen. That, too, was an old habit of hers. With great care she licked her fingers and even made sure to tease out the little smudge of chocolate under her fingernails.

The internet was still down.

“I didn’t ask Akande if he did it,” she sighed as she sat back down in her computer chair. There was no way she was going back to the kitchen. Even going back downstairs would run the risk of her being volunteered to wash the dishes. Right. Fine. It wasn’t her computer. It wasn’t her lovely housemates. Which meant there was something wrong with the connection itself or perhaps there was some sort of strange energy interference—

Sombra smacked her forehead and let out the groan that is only released when one realizes that they, were in fact, the idiot the whole time. She learned back in her computer chair, pressed her tongue against the back of her front teeth, and sucked in enough air to make the best chirping noise she could.

“Mr. Flopsy, are you there?” Sombra chirped again. “Flooooopsy!”

Mist flowed out from under her bed. Unlike Gabe, these shadows were different. Instead of the black ink of Reaper, these shadows sparkled with the same purple energy that crackled through Moira's machines. The purple mist spun in place, as if trying to pin the source of the noise. Sombra grinned.

“Flopsy! Have you been messing with my internet with your weird powers?”

The mist twisted; it churned, it sprung from the floor and landed square on Sombra’s lap. It felt like the time she broke her wrist as a kid and couldn’t play outside for a month. No, it felt like the bitter sharp pain she felt every time she walked past an old Overwatch poster. It felt like opening her bedroom window and seeing nothing but darkness beyond. Not that it stopped her from petting the mist as it formed back into a far more normal rabbit-shape.

“Bad bunny. No weird powers while Mamá’s working.”

Mr. Flopsy wiggled his pink nose as if to tell Sombra that not even God himself and all of his angels could prevent the rabbit from doing what he wanted. And the way Moira cursed about the rabbit Sombra suspected that there really was nothing to prevent the Reaper-like bunny’s whims. They were lucky that all Mr. Flopsy wished for in life was the occasional snack and to follow Moira around to the ends of the Earth.

“Until Mamá adopted you!” Sombra cooed as she scooped the rabbit up in her arms. She had declared the rabbit her child as soon as they moved in, and since he prefered to hang out in her room the rabbit seemed okay with the set up. Mr. Flopsy didn’t act like most rabbits, scared and always on the lookout for predators. Instead Mr. Flopsy seemed to live a life free of fear with no master to answer to. Sombra may also have been projecting a little, but the truth was the rabbit didn’t seem to mind her hugs and nose-kisses.

That gave her an idea.

Shuffling Mr. Flopsy to one arm, Sombra pulled her burner phone out and brought up the camera app. Sombra hit the selfie button only to come face-to-face with herself, an unfortunate side effect of photography in general. She didn’t have her makeup on, never got around to brushing her hair, and was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. On her days off she never looked like a mysterious hacker that held the fate of the world in her pocket. She looked almost normal. Sombra stared down at herself, and Olivia stared back.

She hated it.

This was a terrible idea.

Don’t do it.

Turn the phone off, or just take a picture of the bunny.

Sombra did neither.

It took her some shuffling and stretching out her arm as far as she could to get the pose just right. Her face was mostly hidden behind Mr. Flopsy, the real star of the photo shoot. All that could be seen was a lock of her hair and a single eye peeking out from behind the rabbit. Not enough to ID, she told herself as she sent the picture. No one will be able to recognize her if it got out to the general public. Just a human with purple hair, dark eyes, and a cute pet.

No immediate response.

This was a mistake. Maybe this was all a trick. All of it. Hana, the texts, the calls, the games, all of it was just a trick and she was a fucking idiot. Everything was going to fail because of her mistake. Sombra was ready to dive straight into her old pit of misery when a reply from Hana popped up on her screen. And took up most of the screen. Sombra didn’t know a text could contain so many heart emojis at once nor that there were so many different types of hearts available. Doubt and paranoia were tucked back into a dark corner of her mind right when a second text from Hana popped onto her phone.

_The bunny’s real cute too_

_winky-face ;)_

Hana actually wrote winky-face.

“I am so fucked.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my [Tumblr](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com) for more Overwatch shipping! And don't be afraid to drop a line! I'm lonely! 
> 
> Want to know what happened to Cyber Vale? [Click here!](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com/post/148519005156/hey-wheres-welcome-to-cyber-vale)
> 
> And check out [My Blog](https://aughtpunk.wordpress.com/) for updates and original fiction!


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